Go fish

Kellam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as a slow smirk tugged at his lips. His dark eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and exasperation at Rosalie’s modesty.

Rosalie, if you refuse every gift that’s ‘too much,’ you’ll end up with an empty shelf and a reputation for being insufferably virtuous. His tone carried a light tease, but there was an undertone of insistence. And as for matching it in return— he gestured vaguely, his hand dismissing the notion. This isn’t a barter. It’s a tool, and tools are meant to be used by the right hands. Yours, in this case.

He leaned back again, a shadow crossing his features as his voice dropped, quieter now. Besides, it’s not just a curiosity. I think there’s something in here that someone—someone powerful—didn’t want anyone to find. That’s why I came to you. If anyone can unravel this without losing their mind in the process, it’s you.

The air in the room felt heavier for a moment, tension hanging like a storm cloud as Kellam’s fingers drummed absently on the desk. Then, as if shaking it off, he gave a short, sharp laugh.

A chocolate cake, though? Now that, I’d call a fair trade. Just make sure it’s got some bite to it. None of that overly sweet nonsense. He tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost genuine. Not that I’ll complain either way. A gesture’s a gesture, after all.

His eyes flicked down to the book, its cracked cover seemingly pulling at his thoughts. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, his words almost to himself.

Just be careful with it, Rosalie. Whatever secrets it holds... they’re not harmless. Not by a long shot.

He looked up again, his usual veneer of control firmly back in place. But enough doom and gloom for one afternoon. Let me guess—your clinic is busier than ever, and half the town’s wounds would’ve festered if not for your saintly dedication? His expression was laced with dry humor, but his eyes betrayed a rare flicker of admiration.

@Rosalie Rutherford